


our souls in the ocean together will be

by alittleshitwithfeels



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Gen, Gun Violence, Introspection, Missing Scene, spoilers for MAG 194, tiny implication of some kind of salesa/dekker something but blink and u miss it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:54:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29359839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittleshitwithfeels/pseuds/alittleshitwithfeels
Summary: "Whatever she’s doing, all I can do is hope it doesn’t wreck my little oasis. And if it does, then I hope that by keeping her in good graces she’ll at least do me the courtesy of killing me first."She does him the courtesy.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	our souls in the ocean together will be

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this immediately after the ep in an emotional frenzy because i have many feelings abt one mikaele salesa

Salesa knew, almost the moment he woke up, that today was different. It was the instinct of a sailor who knew the storm was coming long before the instruments or radio told them anything to that effect. The only thing to do was to be ready, so he took a breath and climbed out of bed, rolling his neck to get the stiffness out. He took a bath. He got dressed. He made coffee, made breakfast. A spider skittered across the counter and he nodded.

So Annabelle, then. He’d never been someone to say they expect something from any of the Web’s ilk, but it wasn’t surprising. He’d never thought she was just here as a simple house guest. People had always sought his company simply for what he could provide them.

When he finished, he cleaned up and sat at the piano, playing the few tunes he remembered until he heard footsteps on the carpet.

“Good morning, Annabelle,” he greeted, “how may I help you? I see you so little.”

She smiled, all perfunctory, all teeth. “I am taking the camera.”

He nodded. Arguing and fighting would lead to the same ending that quietly assenting would and he was so tired of fighting, he really was. “I appreciate your courtesy, but if I may, might I take a moment?” She nodded and Salesa stood. He opened a fresh bottle of wine, explaining that he’d been saving this one. He poured himself a glass, drained it, and poured another. Sipping that glass, he laid a gun on one of the small tables between them, accepting the barrel that he’d pointed at himself. 

Finally, he reached up an pulled down an old, red leather bound photo album and sat down. Nursing the glass and now aware that Annabelle had picked up the gun and had it aimed at him, Mikaele flipped through the album. He remembered every face, every name, every story - the names and notes on the back were always meant for someone else. A hope that there would be a someone after him to pass the stories onto. More than his own death, he was heartbroken over the loss of these stories. Maybe it was better that the Eye would not be able to get all of these. Either way, though, there was an inevitable loss and his chest ached with it. 

“I do have a tight schedule, Mr. Salesa. Should I shoot you now?”

He downed the last glass of wine. “No, I’d hate to get blood on the pictures.” Gaze lingering on a picture of Adelard Dekker (candid, the man appeared to be teetering between annoyance and bemusement at being captured as such), he closed his eyes and then the album.

And then there was nothing.


End file.
